


Umber

by that_dark_haired_perv



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, AsaKiku Secret Santa 2015, M/M, Soulmates, but idk, colour talk, he's EVERYWHERE, i didn't even write alfred's name anywhere in this fic but look out for him, i gUESS THIS COULD COUNT AS ONE, if you were looking for fluff, not really but, technically 2016 but well, this is more mild colour talk for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5686984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_dark_haired_perv/pseuds/that_dark_haired_perv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Umber.</em> The colour of your eyes, the tip of your hair and the mud drying on the back of your shoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Umber

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teddiehtet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddiehtet/gifts).



> This fic is for the asakiku secret santa on tumblr and was for tumblr user teddiehtet!!
> 
> This wasn't exactly a Gakuen AU, but they were always in school in this, promise!!! I hope that's all right, and I hope everyone likes this!!
> 
> (LOOK OUT FOR THE HIDDEN ALFREDS)

**_\--02 years old--_ **

They were given pencils.

Coloured pencils.

Everyone got at least one, though some kids were given two or three because of how disruptive they were. Nobody got the exact same colour. One was given violet and another fuschia, and the girl beside him got vermillion, but he wasn’t really sure what colour he was holding.  

He thought it looked brown, so he settled with that. It didn’t seem quite right, however, and he found himself trying to ask a teacher about it.

(As he walked, he thought that maybe it was a shade of dark brown.)

They replied to him with a hasty “ _it’s called dark brown, dear”_ , a fake smile, and a ruffle of his hair.

He wasn’t satisfied. He _knew_ it was some kind of brown. He just didn’t know exactly what kind of brown it was.

Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw a flash of raven ( _that’s a shade of black_ , he thought, proud of himself that he was able to remember something his mother had taught him) hair.

The owner of said hair looked even smaller than him, with pudgy hands and almond-shaped eyes and a tiny dot for a nose. His eyes were intense— looking as if they were digging onto him, or trying to manipulate him into doing something, or reckoning him to come closer.

He followed the latter.

His footsteps weren’t exactly loud in the room, but it echoed for a bit. The other child was still looking at him, he could _feel_ it from the base of his toes to the tip of his hair, and he stepped faster in case of angering them.

When he was right in front of the raven-haired boy, he got too excited and nearly knocked his forehead into the other. It was okay, though, he supposed, since the other wasn’t frowning at him or anything, so he immediately assumed that he wasn’t mad.

The other kid took one look at him, and another at the stationery he was holding. He then sighed, as if exasperated.

Arthur decided not to question him.

“Umber,” the child- Asian, probably Eastern Asian, he noted- simply said. He bowed at the green-eyed boy and walked away.

Arthur blinked. That was a perfect name for the pencil he was holding, and it didn’t hurt that he found someone with it as an eye colour. The name wasn’t particularly old, or strangely fancy, and it had a nice ring to it.

He clutched the pencil tighter in his grip, and tried not to flinch when he heard someone scratching their pencils across the wall.

 

**_\--04 years old--_ **

Maybe the water was really clean, or maybe it was really dirty, but Arthur swore he wasn’t going to get into that.... that abyss of damnation. Full of snotty nosed kids and children with unhygienic nails and yellow teeth.

It wasn’t because he couldn’t swim, no. Swimming was _easy_. You just have to flail around the water for a bit and try not to drown and everything would be fine.

Except, Arthur knew that humans couldn’t float, (he’s very much 100 per cent human, _thank you very much_ ) and everyone around him were probably monsters in disguise.

One of the female teachers (probably a cyclops in costume) tried to bring him in the abyss, with promises of tea candies and magazines. He was tempted, and he almost got inside, but one look at another blond cannonballing was enough to gross him out.

The female te— _cyclops_ — gave up. Another teacher ( _centaur_ , Arthur thought idly) pointed him to doughnut-shaped things and floating devices (full of mer creatures, probably) and asked him to try on one.

The umber coloured one caught his eye. He took that one, examined it, and decided that the water shouldn’t be that bad with those on him.

As it should have been like from the start of the activity, he had a little fun at the.... pool.

 

**_\--05 years old--_ **

He’d never liked chocolate cake. He thought they were slimy, and a bit too sticky. Like mud, but sweeter, that’s how he’d always described them.

Today, however, was not one of those days.

He finished half a bowl of chocolate cakes wrapped in aluminium foil and a jar of chocolate candies.

They’re the colour of the eyes of the boy waiting for him down the stairs of the library and the seats of the umber-coloured swings, and he thought that maybe they weren’t that bad after all.

(Years later, chocolate became his favourite tea time companion.)

 

**_\--07 years old--_ **

“Arthur.”

“Yes?”

Arthur turnt to look at the source of the sound, and was met with shiny black (this shade is called midnight) shoes and a trail of dried umber underneath it. He looked upwards, and _his_ umber eyes smiled instead of his lips.

Arthur thought his mouth felt dry.

“It’s your turn to clean up the blackboard today.”

Despite himself, Arthur laughed.

 

**_\--10.. and a half years old--_ **

“Arthur, are you sure about this?”

Arthur had never really gotten used to _him_ calling Arthur by his name. He nodded vigorously, though he wasn’t really sure what he was nodding about, just to reassure the other child.

The Eastern Asian sighed, in that small, I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this-with-you way, and took a handful of mud and placed it on a thin sheet of paper.

Arthur just watched him, all nimble fingers and deep bright eyes.

He thought it was love.

(It stayed that way for the rest of his life.)

 

**_\--13 years old--_ **

He honestly didn’t know how this kid passed elementary school, but he would really appreciate it if he stopped yelling ‘boobs’ and ‘dicks’ when the teachers are around.

He passed a note to a person beside him.

‘Please tell that American kid in the back to stop whatever he was doing before. Please. Thank you.’

The person beside him looked at him. He knew, because he could feel it, by the back of his neck.. he was sure he’d felt this before, but he didn’t remember where.

The note he got back was in a tidy, small handwriting, written on the top left of a scrap of paper. Another scrap of (more unsightly) paper was attached at the bottom of it.

‘I did. He said:’

In the other scrap of paper, was written:

‘I’m minding my own business. You should tell him to mind his own business, Kikky. Tell him he’s a busybody and that I don’t like him.’

‘Kikky?’

‘Not the point, therefore, not of importance. Which meant that we would not talk about it ever again. Thank you very much.’

He crumpled the paper inside of his palm, and tried to send mental warnings to the kid in the back.

When he heard a shout and an ‘oh sHIT’ later, he pretended that he had succeeded.

The crash of books and chairs echoing in the halls and the ground was satisfying.

 

**_\--14 years and 3 months old--_ **

The way to the library was confusing, to say in the least. His school wasn’t even big- medium-sized, maybe, not big, and especially not huge.

Someone told him that on the second floor, he had to go to the left and spin around three times, and then go to the right, and jump into a flight of stairs. He’d see a door by the end of the hallway the stair led to. The door’s colour would be “dark brown.”

He didn’t know what kind of instructions those were, but he didn’t question it. He’d stopped questioning things years ago.

He tried searching for dark brown doors, but all he found were umber ones.

Seeing a mop of dark hair enter one of them, he thought that _that_ might be it.

He wasn’t... wrong.

 

**_\--17 years old--_ **

Being the student council president a year after being the vice wasn’t as weird as some people thought it to be. The president last year was pretentious, and left all the work to the vice and the secretary and the treasurer, so it honestly wasn’t that much of a difference.

The biggest difference was that he now led the meetings and he made all the decisions. Everything felt good. He was even allowed to invite people for tea parties in the office. Tea made him a very happy Englishman.

The knock on his door put him out of his trance, and he asked the person to come in.

He heard the sound of shoes stepping on the wooden floor, and the crinking of newspapers, and _then_ he heard The Sigh.

He’d always thought that green goes really well with brown, which is one of the reasons he liked going to the countryside, and mountains, rivers near the forest.

Looking at _him_ , Arthur thought he was right.

 

**_\--20 years old--_ **

“You know, you talk about the colour of my eyes all the time. But I don’t feel like you’re giving yourself enough credit.”

“Green is nothing special.”

Arthur could hear _his_ sigh rumbling behind his ears. “Not _green_. You don’t call my colour ‘brown’, you call it-“

“Umber. It’s a nice colour.”

“So are the colour of yours. Emerald, I’d say.”

Arthur snorted. He tried to keep it as low as he could, so that the other would not be offended. “Cliché, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. But it has a nice ring to it, I say.”

At the speed the Asian was talking with, he guessed he hadn’t been as discreet as he’d thought he was being.

Arthur bit his lower lip. He looked out the window to try to distract himself, and it worked, he guessed, because he found a bespectacled blond trying to build a treehouse in the school grounds... Which was very, very distracting. “... I guess.”

“I think it might’ve been shamrock, though?” Arthur perked up. “Does that sound better?”

Arthur nodded. He didn’t tell the other that he liked it better because it has also two syllables, but he had a feeling that the other already knew.

“Good,” he hummed, the book on his lap seemingly brighter in daylight and the tea in his cup clinking. “Because that’s the colour of the pencil I got back then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always welcomed. every comments and kudos and bookmarks will be appreciated and cherished, including critiques and such!!
> 
> Thank you for reading through this! Have a great day!
> 
> (DID YOU FIND THE HIDDEN ALFREDS??? PLEASE DO TELL)


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